Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Cut, Slit, Bleed

I suppose I'm looking back on this. Because right now it's what I need and if I can't do it then I need to write about it...

I started cutting myself by accident. I was cutting carrots and the knife slit my palm open. I had been upset, but that crimson that slid from my hand shocked me enough to tickle my senses. It didn't hurt me. It felt okay... It felt good...

So I picked up that knife and I pulled it across my forearm. Where I had heard people had done it before... I heard it was safe...

But that was just after a usual day. As things became worse. I became addicted to that relief that came with the free flow of blood. It's something I don't think I'll ever recover from...

So when I was... When Loz did his thing to me.... I sank so low cut more than I ever had before... Ripped open both arms. Slashed at my legs. I was filthy and I had to be punished. So I did it myself... Until my little sister saved me...

I owe her so much but I wish that it wasn't like this... That picking up the blade in sink, with three drops of water on, black handle pointing towards me... That usuing it to free me alittle more would not end in her tears and my guilty peace.

I won't do it. That's the only rule now. And I suppose that's how it's going to have to stay...